


Pee Breaks Just Give Hell Sometimes On Road Trips.

by judesrivers



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Confessions, Day 12 of Quarantine, He also has bad anxiety, John and Paul are both pining, M/M, No smut but really hot kiss scenes, Paul is madly in love with John, Road Trips, Wrote this while in the middle of doing an online class, a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesrivers/pseuds/judesrivers
Summary: Paul and John come to a realization during an awkward road trip that leads to nowhere. Paul just really has to pee, and John is sick of his shit.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Pee Breaks Just Give Hell Sometimes On Road Trips.

**Author's Note:**

> crap¡¡   
> a total mclennon drought is happening to me right now. i really have no muse to write with these two, so i just forced this one out until i can actually find something worth writing with them.

Whips of wind struck John’s face, causing him to finally catch up on what he was doing. Earlier with nothing spectacular to be done, he opted to go on a road trip with Paul. It’s not like Paul had a choice anyway, John had woken him up and basically forced him to get dressed so they could go on a ride. The brightness of the sun was down, leaving only the moonlight paving it’s way down the road for the two young men. The road was not exactly empty, there was one or two cars in front of John’s but at the same time it made him aware that they weren’t alone. To be honest, he hadn’t known whether if it was a good or bad thing. 

John placed a cig between his lips, and patted around for a lighter without letting his eyes leave the road. Paul caught the movements in his peripheral vision, and moved his head off of the window to detect a lighter for his mate. It took three whole minutes of frantic searching, just for Paul to withdraw a match that could be put in use. John shifted the cig to the other side of his lips as Paul, with one strike of the match, birthed a small flame. With uncomfortable silence, Paul lit up John’s cig and then blew out the match. 

There was a sharp intake of nicotine, and then a smoky sigh of exhaustion given from John. His original plan was just to drive away, just to unintentionally kidnap Paul and just run away with him forever. To where? Unimportant, at the moment. Everything going on back in Liverpool was a little too obnoxious just to be ignored. Yet the silence of this drive was even louder than the troubles, and John did not know why. He was waiting for Paul to break the silence, since he was left unknowing what his tone of voice would sound like if he spoke up instead. 

Paul let out a moan-like sigh as he shifted to get comfortable in his seat. His legs crossed, and he unbuckled his seatbelt for all reasons unknown. “Got to take a piss.” Paul finally spoke, his voice was soft as always and it never ceased to wrap John up in a bubble that he always hated. 

Timidly, he angled the steering wheel, and lifted his foot off of the pedal to slow the car down to the side of the road. As soon as the car was pulled over, Paul reached for the door handle and gently jerked it open. John took another drag from his cigarette, and held his head down in deep thought. Fuck he would give anything to just be at a destination of some sort, it did not matter where, as long as it was far away from where he originally came from. 

Maybe it was the fact that John was in one of his..moments, moments where he just does things on impulse whenever he’s feeling some type of way. That usually involves pulling Paul along with the rollercoaster ride. 

John put out his cigarette, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Thoughts were riveting through his tired mind like a worn down factory. Shit, he needed a reasoning to this. Why a road trip that leads to nowhere out of all things John? What could this driving and no-talking shit possibly bring you in the long run? Weird at how at times he acts before he can think, vice on trusting his instincts instead of his common sense. 

With a feeling of uneasiness, John turned the car off and opened his own door. What he expected was to see Paul with his cock out, spurring piss on mother nature’s green grass. Instead, he found the younger man on top of the car trunk with his forehead placed, disturbingly despondent on his knees. John titled his head to the side as he trekked forwards, carefully stepping around the car to the front of Paul. 

Paul slowly lifted his head up from his knees, and locked into John’s disconsolate gaze. John drank in Paul’s utter beauty, although reining with melancholic dejection, there was a delicate touch of virtue that always lingered with Paul. 

“Mad?” John queried, voice tense but the reigning chants of insecurities in his head was even tenser. 

Paul shook his head, reluctantly uncurling himself from the balled up posture John found him in. “No, there’s nothing to be mad about.”

“Rubbish.” John scowled, with a raw tone of emotion in his voice. “You’re bloody boilin’ right now aren’t you? And don’t fib to me either lad. I know I’m a fuck up.”

“If I had a problem with you I would have said it.” 

“When? Plus, how should I know? You haven’t opened your flappers since we got into the bloody car.” John spat, resigning the patience he had already been lacking on, with the sheer frustration that had mounted up during the silent car ride. “Out here, head on your knees as if you lost the war. I’m sitting in the car like a bloody dog.” 

Paul’s face had somehow stayed impossibly neutral. Instead of tacking on a McCartney comeback, which he usually does, the hazel eyed male gingerly hopped off of the trunk of John’s car. John’s eyes searched Paul’s movements, a billion questions and assumptions occupying his head as he watched him closely, intently. Why was he so casually composed whenever John would have his moments? Was it some type of cheat code? Years of training from father McCartney? John will never get it. 

Paul’s eyes became steady on a single pebble, which meant his gears were grinding. Then for a split second, there eyes met again. “I just simply wasn’t in a talking mood Lennon. You know, I never knew someone was required to talk to another in a car ride. What if something is on the other’s mind?”

John was not hesitant to quip, “Like what?”

Paul opened his mouth, closed it, and then parted his lips again. “Something that does not need to be shared. Which is a reason why the car ride was so silent.” 

John friskily approached Paul, and it caused the younger to move back only two steps. Not in fear, but of anticipation. “Paul, goddamnit don’t do this shit now. Don’t start shutting me out. I stopped doing that a long time ago, and you know I can’t be the only one making progress here.” 

Paul stared at him almost shyly, it was with a gaze that had only threw John off. “I know, and I’m trying. You know it’s hard for me, just as hard as it was for you. I don’t enjoy it John, it’s just that I don’t know what you’d think of it.” Paul stated, leaning in closer to John who had only stared back at him with a unreadable emotion. 

“Won’t you just tell me what it is now? Whatever reaction I have is for after whenever I ask for you to elaborate. I know one for jumping into conclusions, but for you.. I’ll take my chances.” And John genuinely meant it, the vulnerability inevitable in his tone of voice. 

Paul took another step forward, quickly placing both of his hands on John’s waist to pull him forwards without repercussions. John’s eyes slightly widened as Paul titled his head to the side slightly to press his lips softly against John’s. 

The suddenness made John stumble back a bit, in others eyes it’d be subjected as a disgusted recoil, but in reality John was just shocked at the move. He was shocked at the realization of Paul’s soft, inviting and smooth lips being pressed against his. 

It seemed as if within a blink of John’s eye the softness was gone, and it seemed as if the kiss hadn’t happened at all. John watched as Paul basically fluttered away, his face red and regret immediately filtering his normally relaxed features. 

“I’m sorry.” Paul stammered, forcing himself to not overreact. “But look, that’s what’s been bothering me. It’s- it’s why I haven’t talked to you.” 

John’s face tensed up. “Paul..” God this man could not get even more beautifully stupid. 

Paul had winced at the expression on John’s face. Misunderstanding spreading like wild fire within his head, and it was taking an absolute toll on Paul within a short span of seconds. A world record. ‘I fucked up, I fucking fucked up.’ was the main chants rushing though his mindset. 

John had noticed that in this moonlight, Paul was set on looking like a small and hurt animal. “What?” Paul strained out defensively, his voice sounding strange and not his. “God I- fuck you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” 

“Paul I understand.” John tried to summon up the words as best as he could without scaring Paul off. 

Paul could actually feel a tsunami of hot blood flow to his ears, and it made him want to panic. Feeling as if a rejection, an awkward one would render from this moment. Though he tried. He tried not to assume and just let John finish, but the rush to dig his grave six feet into the planet’s heart was tempting. 

John clicked his teeth, and analyzed Paul’s pale face. A stoned expression that he could not read, if only he knew what was racing inside of the younger’s head. “Christ, I’m speechless actually. All this time..the whole car ride.” John trailed off, leaving Paul in another array of internal negative comments. 

Paul felt his eyes become irritated, the burn of liquid formulating at the rim and corners of his eyes. “I just really wanted to kiss you man.”

John’s eyes had gorgeously twinkled and it made Paul look immediately away, disgusted. 

“Paul.. I feel the same way.” John blurted, becoming flustered at how much Paul loathed at himself for doing this. Whatever this was, a physical confession of love? Either way John had not mind it. If anything, he wanted another kiss from Paul but at the same time his mind wanted to work slower just to make it hard. 

“You hating me now won’t change the fact that I love yo-” Paul paused, clearly befuddled and disoriented at what just emitted from John’s mouth. Embarrassingly, he caught himself rambling out shit instead of staying quiet and embracing the outcome like he told himself to do. “Come again?” He had then meekly asked, just as quick as he cut himself off with some type of euphoria. 

“I feel the same way. This bloody trip was supposed to be some type of.. I don’t know. Some type of getaway from the others, because I only wanted you here. I only want you with me right now.” John strode close again, and Paul didn’t flinch. 

“I figured.” Paul breathed, relief fluttering over his beautiful face. He hadn’t allowed himself to smile yet, that thought was put up to wait for a few. 

“You didn’t.” John replied, gently lifting a palm up to caress the soft cheek of Paul. He shuddered as Paul naturally reacted to the touch, his face growing more relaxed, looking more younger. “All this time, I could have said something about this and- maybe shit wouldn’t have been so awkward.” John continued, placing his other hand on Paul’s cheeks to cup his whole face. 

With delicately gentle hands clinging onto John’s wrist, Paul blinked away the incoming tears of frustration that had bottled up beforehand. John barely noticed, and Paul couldn’t help but to withdraw an exhale of tranquility. “God I love you.” John announced, pushing himself forwards to kiss Paul again. 

Paul’s eyes fluttered closed, and he reacted to the kiss immediately. Their lips brushing, and moving together languidly as if they’ve done this thousands of times before. Coming close maybe once or twice, but actually scoring in this nighttime. John moved his hands from Paul’s face, almost instinctively to his waist as Paul seemed to wrap his arms around John’s torso. John’s shy tongue smoothly entered Paul’s mouth to leisurely brush over Paul’s tongue, awakening the hallucinating taste of McCartney. 

He tasted just like John imagined, and his mouth felt conspicuously good against John’s. Here they were, making out with each other in the middle of nowhere where anyone could pull over and see. Possibly to take a picture and jizz all over with in the aftermath. 

John would pull back, have Paul chase after the kiss and then give two lingering kisses. It was until Paul enveloped John in a preeminent display, pulling him towards the trunk of the car so that John had all his weight on him. John had no trouble obliging, pressing himself against Paul as their lips continued to obstruct pleasure against each other. 

Paul arms had found their way around John’s neck, wringing him closer and making the kids more passionate than it had already been. John couldn’t get enough, especially from the way Paul sucked on his tongue which made the feeling of arousal finally hit him. ‘Shit, that bloody Macca.’ John thought as he made a bold move, and push his hands from around Paul’s waist to up his shirt. 

The delighted grunt that came from Paul was satisfactory at its finest. It made Paul finally pull away, biting down on John’s bottom lip in the midst of the action and grasp at John’s curious hand. John was the one that darted back in for a kiss, but this time it was a more shorter one with less tongue and more of just lips moving in sync. 

Pulling away for air, Paul nestled his forehead against John’s neck and let out a breathless laugh. John held Paul closer to him in a protective hug, squeezing the younger as Paul tried to regather himself, being utterly drunk off of the heated kisses they shared. John kiss the side of Paul’s head, and whispered to him. “What’s funny love?” He asked, before pressing gentle kisses against the skin of Paul’s neck. 

“I uh-” Paul’s breath spiked into a high pitch moan when John ran a tongue against a particular spot. John made a note that this would be one of the treasure chest to making Paul weak at the knees. “Fuck off.” Paul snickered, and playfully shoved John off of him. There was a shortage of embarrassment in his voice when it reached back to its normal tone. 

“Sounded like a bloody porn star.” John laughed, as Paul blushed and clapped his hand over the now bruised spot on his neck. 

“As I was saying- I need to pee.” Paul had finally said, while he stood up from the car trunk and began to walk over towards the grass. 

“Oh no, it’s not that.. I made you a horn ball. You just need me to toss you off at the moment.” 

“Yeah that part ain’t gonna happen until we’re officially official.” Paul had immediately said, although when he pulled his member out it was visibly hard in his hands. 

“That part was about to happen when I had you pressed up against the trunk love.” 

Paul playfully rolled his eyes as he pissed. “Right, right.” 

When they both got back in the car, Paul had one hand squeezing the back of John’s hand as he drove. They hadn’t turned around even though there solution was founded, instead John kept driving to find some fucking food. Paul often glanced at John a little once or thrice, maybe even more but there was no reason in particular. He just loved staring at him and trying to analyze what was going on in his head, it was as if he was some type of psychic. 

John looked at Paul from the road a couple of times, not as much as Paul looked at him though. Obviously it was to avoid a car crash, but he most loved looking at Paul when he hadn’t known John was looking at him. 

“Where are we going anyway?” Paul asked suddenly, as he turned his head towards John. When John glanced at him, Paul had this boyish expression on his face and it caused the older man to chuckle. 

“I have no idea really.” John replied, “I guess we could go and get some food. Then we’d ride back on home or whatever.” 

Paul smiled, beamed actually. All John knew from his peripheral vision that it was the type of smile that made Paul’s eyes crinkle up at the side, and the small dimples present. Fucking hell was that man beautiful, so beautiful it hadn’t made any sense to him why God would put him on this planet. This planet full of bullshit for such a finely established person like Paul McCartney, and the whole family. 

It had then occurred to John that Paul would create the most beautiful children. They’d have his eyes, of course. The eyes are the strongest gene in the McCartney family, and they’re bound to be given to a heir. 

Paul would make a beautiful family in general. 

John grasped at Paul’s hand, lifting it up to kiss at the back of it which withdrew a single giggle from Paul. 

•••

**Author's Note:**

> so if you reached the end of this, congratulations!!   
> seriously i believe this was one of my most..worst oneshot. any ideas could be taken at the moment, the writing blocks are harsh on me this time round.


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